


The Sum of All

by SheegothBait



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Unreliable Narrator, Violence, Wrongful Imprisonment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-25 22:35:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20033452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SheegothBait/pseuds/SheegothBait
Summary: Dr. Siebren De Kuiper has spent his entire life studying gravity. When it winds up literally tearing his life apart, he is imprisoned 'for his safety'.He knows that's a lie.Can anyone help piece his old life, his shattered mind, back together?





	The Sum of All

**Author's Note:**

> Guess who watched the Sigma trailer seven times to research this video? I also referenced the wiki as well, so if you see anything that's kind of confusing, pop over to the wiki and check it out.  
And always, enjoy.  
************

The song winds its way through and through and through his head, over and over.

_What is that melody?_

It grows in volume, blotting out the blankness of his room, filling the space inside his head. He shouts, pleads for release. The melody is driving him mad, _mad,_and won’t someone please silence it? He tears at his clothes, his skin, and the white-coated people come, give him something that finally quietens the music.

He sleeps, but when he wakes, the song is there to greet him.

_WHAT IS THAT MELODY? _

And so it continues.

Day after day. Night after night. Repetition after repetition after repetition.

He wakes up some nights, painfully aware of where he is, bangs at the walls, screams at those that must be watching.

_Why am I imprisoned here?_

**Release me!**

They don’t answer. They never do.

He doesn’t understand their silence. He’s done no wrong. He’s not a criminal.

_Why am I imprisoned here?_

_hold it together_

_Hold it together_

_HOLD IT TOGETHER_

He can’t help but try to satisfy himself by pacing, by tapping against something and keeping rhythm with the endless melody, by banging his head against the wall, by humming.

Is he humming or shrieking?

They slip him things in his meals, keep him drugged so that he does not become violent, but it does not stop the restlessness, the song.

_What is that MELODY?_

_help me_

Sometimes they speak with him, advise him to pursue the melody he cannot rid himself of. They give him a marker and he scrawls on the walls of his cell, mathematical equations and complex calculations. It is a distraction of sorts.

_Freedom… Imprisonment…It’s all an illusion._

Sometimes he wakes up and his work is erased, gone.

Weeks of work…

Wait…

Has it been weeks?

Months?

Years?

Has he always worn orange and the little tag on his jumpsuit that is printed with the symbol for the sum of all things? Is that what he is to find? What is his purpose?

It _must _mean something. It has to mean something.

The universe is ordered chaos, and to understand that chaos is to understand how it all works, the underpinnings of existence.

Understanding is one step closer to harnessing, to _controlling_.

_My entire career has been devoted to this idea…this _moment…

He remembers a deep crimson against white. Beautiful.

Beautiful, but wrong.

So, so wrong.

_Violence…_

Has he killed someone?

_Nonono…_

That can’t be him. That was not him. He would not.

Voices in his head, reminding him of the heavy magnetic cuffs he wears, the sound of bones breaking and screams as the guard crumpled.

_Yes._

_Yes… _

_No!_

_NOOOO!_

He twitches, falls backward, finds himself laying on a gurney, staring at the ceiling. The melody is back, playing gently. His mind is clouded; he cannot remember how he came to be here or why he lacks the energy to move. The music spirals around and around in his head, maddening in its elusiveness, the melody of everything and anything and nothing at all.

_What is that MELODY?_

_Hold it together, hold it together…_

There are alarms in the distance. Something’s wrong. Gunfire. Strangers, not his guards, come to him. His mind buzzes with equal parts terror and joy and desperation. The world around him shatters.

_Release me!_

Darkness.

He wonders if the singularity has finally swallowed him. Perhaps gravity has won…

He wakes to a woman standing over him, a woman with hair as orange as his jumpsuit.

_Dr. De Kuiper, do you know where you are?_

No. He has not known for years. He does not remember where they took him or why. He does not know if this woman is friend or foe. She wears white, just as they did. But she meets his unsteady gaze, addresses him calmly, unlike the people who simply glanced over him and spoke about him as if he was not there.

A pen floats out of her pocket, and long, nimble fingers snatch it from the air. She regards him curiously.

_We can fix that, but we need your help. _

She returns him to a lab, tells him a little of his rescue by a group named Talon, as if that’s supposed to have meaning to him.

He goes to work. Very few bother him, save for the orange-haired woman. Moira is her name.

Not that it matters.

_My entire career has been devoted to this idea…this _moment… _If the unifying theories are correct, we will soon be able to harness the power of a black hole..._

_Gravity is a harness…_

Slowly, technology comes together under his fingers with the help of a few others, and when he wears it, he feels…focused. In control.

Things no longer fly about the lab or become crushed into something far denser than they should be.

His research accelerates.

They build him a suit of armor they say is supposed to help him control his abilities. During the tests, Moira is there, watching. She seems to approve of his work, though she does seem wary.

He builds himself small dodecahedronal gravitic charges, and this time they work. He can control the fluxes better now, make them more or less intense on his wishes. He can pin an object to the ground with a gravitational field or make it float as though it was lighter than air.

_Gravity is a harness…_

They have a final test for him to complete. The strangers he saw at the facility are there watching, waiting, as he dons his suit of armor.

He doesn’t just destroy his target. He rips it into pieces and flings it about the test room like leaves in a tornado. The others seem satisfied, but Moira looks genuinely unsettled, even as the man with the huge mechanical arm talks and talks about channeling more funding towards his work. He thinks she’s caught him talking to the voices in his head one too many times.

Her opinion doesn’t matter to him, so long as he can continue research. 

He has succeeded.

_Gravity…._

_Gravity is a harness…_

_I have harnessed the harness. _


End file.
